


Welcome to The Black Parade (Rough)

by Kruznik05



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kruznik05/pseuds/Kruznik05
Summary: Vengeance leads to many things, but holding onto it fiercely tends to lead a long and treacherous road of dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Speculative of arc three but at the same time purely self indulgent. Rough draft, parts or "chapters" will be put together in time for the full story.

Lips grimaced as a hand went to a crown of flowing gold and a veil of black, causing her to sit up right in the cab’s worn out seat. 

“Damage report,” the deep monotone caused her to crack a tired eye open, giving her companion a small smile as she retracted her hand. 

“Just a tap Gunslinger,” she sighed, gripping the seat as the cab was jolted from the rough mountain road. With a sigh did she finally relax back into the seat when the road became even again, yet her companion did not seem persuaded. He moved forward, a gloved hand gently moving her slender neck to the side and studying her for injuries. 

“No damage to remark,” he reported, tea eyes studying her intently. She scoffed, attempting to push his hand away but to no avail, her frustration peaking.

“That is enough, that’s an order,” she grew stern, her blue gunmetal eyes sharp and commanding. The hand retracted and settled upon his lap once more, his eyes swiveling and observing their surroundings. The car turning into a man-made tunnel before entering into a clearing, numerous half-ruined structures stood around them covered in foliage and moss. Some roofs had caved in while others lightly creaked in the wind, while the blacktop below them was cracked and split apart by a mob of weeds and thistles. The car stopped as the driver looked around, the driver turning to open the privacy window. 

“Uh, pardon Miss, are you sure this is the right place? I think you have the wrong place,” he remarked in a heavy Germanic accent, scratching his stubbled chin. She gave him a small smile, but a similar doubt began to hit her, anger rising as she suspected she had been misled. About to answer before raising her hand when she saw he was about to speak; a distant deep thrum began to thump as the car idled there. The thump quickly changed from an idle thump to harsh jolts that rattled the car and structures around them, some of them even collapsing as the rhythm grew more violent causing the short man to come to his master, cover her with his heavy body. His Jericho drawn towards the north east.

“Massive object inbound,” Tres warned, one of his laser guided eyes focused on something that began to crush trees as it drew closer. The ferryman attempted to drive away but struggled to keep his hands and feet upon the controls, as hexagons of light began to part from the north-east wind. The humans gawked when the massive monolith was finally revealed, its stone and metal body seemingly transparent yet it was obvious what it was. From what could be seen in the dark and with the few sickly green lights illuminating bits and parts of it, it was an intricate work of towers, flying buttresses and interlocking parts with monstrous legs supporting the structure as it lumbered closer. The Structure stopped suddenly, lurching slightly before groaning to a halt, stream escaping the limbs as it paused before a loud groaning roar sounded as it lowered itself till it hit the ground, the car jumping from the impact as the dust kicked up. There was an almost deafening silence to the air, even the car seemingly did not exist as the three took in the massive structure. 

“Christ, who even put that together….” The Ferryman whispered, rubbing the sweat from his brow as he removed his hat, clearly afraid. The woman took a moment too long to collect herself, swallowing thickly before regaining her voice, her eyes focusing upon several dark figures approaching them. The all too familiar form of the shade quickly coming into view, puffing the thin cigarillo between his smiling thin lips. She swallowed thickly, glancing to the driver.  
“Don’t be crass,” was all she said behind a hand as she pushed her companion away, the door opened by the shade. 

“Good tides my lady, its truly a pleasure to see you again madame Sforza,” he purred, pulling the cigarillo away from his lips and offering a white gloved hand. She gave him a forlorn smile, placing a thin, delicate hand into his much larger one. He easily helped her to her feet, guiding her from the car with a hand upon her wide hip before taking her hand. “I hope the trip was not too much trouble,” he purred, kissing the pale knuckle, his dead eyes devouring her own for an answer. She sighed. 

“It was a trip,” she remarked with genuine exasperation, more taxed with the amount of control it took her not to rip her hand away. “I pray I did not keep you waiting for long,” she added, trying not to lean away from the arm corralling her towards the structure. She stilled her breathing when she saw the other figures as they drew near the car, easily opening the back truck and bringing her heavy luggage with them, even tearing the charging console from Tres’ grasp. The shade seemed to know what she was looking at. 

“Do not worry,” he turned his gaze to her, “as brutish as they are, they will not damage your belongings, besides,” he stopped before the main gate, parting to give a slight bow, “for tonight only, you are the guest of honor,” he smirked, taking her hand once more. “Come, I don’t doubt my lady would care to freshen up before the party tonight,” he returned his arm. 

“Party? Is this how you greet all of your new recruits? Isn’t that a bit…. Unconventional?” she scrutinized, not anticipating the bizarre practice. He chuffed, patting her hand.  
“Ah, that is but the norm, especially with Mein Herr who leads us to a shining future,” his dead eyes briefly glimmered, his teeth clicking with light excitement. “Besides, you will assimilate into the ranks by the morrow, no need to fret for now.”  
“I see….” She trailed off, preferring not to speak for now as she took in the hostile territory. Past the outer gates lay a courtyard with a black and white tiled stonework, numerous white and red rose bushes dotted the area intermixed with a series of marble statues. Some of beauties, others of hideous grotesques. The looming front door grew taller and taller as they closed the distance. Tres dutifully followed behind, his clomping footsteps being the most noticeable noise aside from the deep groans of the machine beneath their feet.


	2. Encounter with the False Icon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, bits and pieces, but this one is a mix of building up and self indulgence.

Caterina is full of spite and anger, hidden beneath a serene face and joviality as she passes through the ranks of RCO demons. Her thoughts darkening as the shade leads her closer and closer to her quarry, the man behind the murder, the creature that had stolen it all but the memories that rested within her of those she held dear. The Icon of Sin, a predator amongst prey and the enemy of the world. She grows tense, a sort of bloodlust clouding her senses as her excitement to sneer in the face of her enemy made her blood rush as meaning bloomed in her. Just a step, a final step and……..

The world deafens and becomes meaningless, the tempo of her mind shattering and coming to a seizing halt as her heart struggled to keep its own tempo. A garden, an angel sitting before the fount, dressed in immaculate white with an ever-dazzling crown of silver flowing in the gentle breeze. A calm memory bubbled up washed away every ill intent and hate, but with no cold walls to protect the fragile heart the sting of despair would swiftly pierce it.   
For this was not the angel of her dreams, the silent tormentor of her icy heart, torn asunder by similar wintery eyes and soft smiles. It was the devil.  
Her icon rose before her, a soft smile upon dark lips as the immaculate false god drew near. She felt weak at the knee but refused to meet his gaze, not even hearing the shade beside her as she was guided towards the river Styx who welcomed her with open arms as she was pressed into his broad chest. Her breath grew shaky, gun metal blue locked onto the Baphomet pin holding the trinity knot of the ebony tie together. She felt her cheeks flush as its ruby eyes mocked her carnal weakness, her hands gripping the white, thick folds of fabric to steady herself only for the deep churning breath beneath her hand to snap that last bit of control as she finally met his eyes. 

Wintery lavender aloofly observed her, the dark upper lids half lidded with plush black lips were lightly parted in a sensual manner. The silver crown flowed in the night air, but did not dare obscure the high cut cheeks and intense gaze.   
She struggled to find her voice, but Isaak seemed to speak for her. 

“Hmph, seems the miss wishes to dance with you after all Mein Herr,” he mused, clicking his teeth. Caterina blushed suddenly, realizing she had fallen into the shade’s trap at the seemingly malicious smirk from him. A bemused huff came from the other man, the sudden raising and deflation of his chest as a gold, clawed hand cupped her waist caused her mind to halt once more. His other hand easily pried her hand from the thick lapel before cupping it, a thumb circling her first knuckled. 

“Well, I always get the first dance with the guest of honor after all,” He chuffed, pressing her hip as he began to sway, only partially shuffling his feet from side to side till began to follow his pace. Isaak nodded, flicking his wrist for the band to change the tune to a more jovially and fast paced tempo. With a breath did she sway in suit with him, having some difficulty following him for his longer legs outpaced her. She kept her eyes upon his chest and the world around them, growing dizzy and tired from the fast pace, but she knew she had to keep up with him. She cursed herself when she accidentally bumped her foot into his, a costly mistake against any unfamiliar partner. But he did not push her away as the tempo slowed, rather, he released her hand to cup the low of her back and holding her close. She placed her hands upon his chest once more, finding the slow sway and step more accommodating for her. She met his gaze slowly, regaining her mask enough to give him a smile but grew demure again as her throat grew dry. Her former guardian angel’s visage seemingly mocking her.  
“My apologies my lord,” she swallowed, trying to wet her tongue. “I pray I did not cause offense,” the polite murmur was nauseatingly submissive to her, especially to the creature who had her locked in his arms. He cocked his head to the side, a silver brow rising as a smile crescent his lips. 

“Not at all,” he chirped, his voice light and airy as he suddenly spun them. “Besides!” She finally met his gaze. “You’re probably tired after such a long trip, can’t do great work without a bit of great rest,” it seemed almost like a forgotten slogan, perhaps of the prior era. She released a breath.

“I see my lord,” she replied out of politeness, pressing close when she noticed other members dancing around them as she fought to find the right words. Yet, he seemed to have something else in mind. 

“How about a bit of food? Then we can dance more,” it was less of a suggestion and more of a statement as he turned her and pushed her towards the table that featured the most ornate and tallest of the chairs in the room. The fine, gold inlaid ceramic works and glass ware sparkled in the candlelight, while mechanical maids moved about, pouring water and wine into glasses as the Herr and lady approached. He pushed her into a chair that had suddenly pulled out from the table besides the highchair, before sauntering into his seat beside her. Upon the other side of her sat the shade, already puffing away at a cigar. He smiled once their eyes met but directed his attention to the one behind her. 

“A good dance partner Mein Herr?” Isaak inquired, taking his wine glass and sipping at the pale ruby drink. He was met with a joyful nod as he waved down one of the maids to start serving. 

“Most definitely, reminds me of the old days,” he idled, eyes looking about the room, studying the others as his chin rested in the palm of his hand. “But much easier, she’s close to my height,” he added, swiveling his head towards the now blushing ex-Cardinal but it was quickly lost when she noticed how….. forlorn his eyes appeared as they wandered towards her. Isaak seemed off as well, presenting a rather full glass to his Icon who took it, admiring it contents idly.

“But of course, now, I had them prepare the finest of strawberry wines Mein Herr,” his tone shifted from uncaring to smooth, especially as he saw Cain’s eyes light up. “I know its your favorite,” he purred, pushing a glass towards her as well as the Icon began to lightly sip before drinking deeply. “You may fancy it as well Mein Frauline,” he coaxed, knowing she was not someone who neglected offered drinks. She smiled, tapping her glass to his own, earning herself a toothy smile in response. Suddenly, a third glass clunk both roughly, causing her to freeze when she felt the thick body behind her, his left arm having snuck around her to join in the small gesture. “Ah, hallo Mein Herr.”   
“It’s a toast,” Cain smirked, “after all, we’ve been waiting for you,” he added as he gave her a strong hug, knocking the wind of her before releasing an relaxing back into his throne like chair. She coughed, taking a moment to find her voice as genuine confusion wracked her brain for answer.

“You have?” she sipped at her wine, hoping it would parch her thirst, pleasantly surprised by the mild, sweet smoothness of the drink. Cain mumbled into his drink, nodding. 

“Oh but of course,” Isaak interjected, “after all, neither I or Mein Herr will deny your history with rebuffing the Orden,” he added a bit to her glass when it grew low. “But not as important as taking care of Mein Herr Abel, Mein Herr treasure’s his health and happiness greatly.” She felt the heat of guilt and surprise run through her, perhaps egged on by the wine  
“Mhm, good work should always be rewarded, especially if its for taking care of my brother. He’s always been such a handful, the help is always appreciated,” He patted and rubbed her shoulder, smiling to her, his eyes half lidded and soft. “That kid has always had it rough, but you certainly made his day by giving him that cute veggie garden. He always like getting dirt under his nails,” he hummed, his attention briefly adverted by his glass being refilled, this time with a softer orange looking drink. She swallowed, a trickling of fear hitting her as she realized they had invaded her life in more ways than one, for the same veggie garden had been a plot of land she had granted a small cabin and soil to Abel. It made her wonder what else they knew, no, rather, she had to be already compromised. She took another swig, steeling her nerves. But she would play along, uncertain of what they were making note of as she was sandwiched between the two dangerous entities. 

“It did not seem right to simply have him stay in one of the dingy dorms, he had been moping in that dark tomb after all,” she remarked, “it was the least I could do for my guardian angel and friend.” Cain regarded her once more, another glass seemingly gone, his cheeks lightly flushed now. 

The shade studied the pair, taking note of even the smallest of movements and yielding of the woman beside him. He scribbled in an unknown language as he observed her, his dead eyes wandering to where he knew the machine would be, currently being prodded by the Marionettespeiler. Cain huffed, growing impatient. 

“They’re taking a bit aren’t they,” he remarked drolly, tapping his foot beneath the table as he drank more of his wine. Isaak nodded in agreement. “I wanted to dance more before this body goes again,” he huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner, yet his eyes remained unreadable. 

“Hrm, that is indeed my fault Mein Herr,” he rose and moved close, pouring a bit more of the drink into his lord’s glass and gently offering it. Cain regarded, taking it back and drinking again. “But we must make do,” he rubbed soothing circles up and down the Icon’s chest, “After all, you are clearly making the body last more and more as time goes on, you even fought Herr Abel and beat him soundly without your body falling apart,” he patted his stomach, “truly Mein Gott Kruznik is the magnum opus of nature,” Isaak revered, one hand rubbing small circles upon the Kruznik’s stomach while the other snaked around his large collar, his fingers pressing into the tense muscle along his porcelain neck. Cain’s eyes drooped at the touch, a deep purr rumbling from him. 

She froze at the sound, still trying to comprehend the sudden display of affection before her, something she had never known in her years in the Vatican. Yet, crimson colored her cheeks when winter blue locked upon her, taking the time to drink, hoping the presence of the wine would disguise her blush. 

“Yet I remain far from whole,” he sighed with a forlorn tiredness, his half-lidded eyes scrutinizing for a moment more before wandering back to the shade. Isaak blinked briefly; his hand disappeared for a moment as Cain tapped his glass to his lips sighing. “See?” She blushed once she realized what he had been implying. Isaak chuckled, patting the other man’s thigh.   
“Patience Mein Herr, perhaps we can test this body tomorrow after your bath,” he hummed, slate eyes meeting gun metal blue, winking. “Besides, it would be opportune for training the miss as well.”  
She blushed, placing her wine glass down, mouth agape. Thankfully, Cain interjected. 

“No, no, no,” he blushed, childishly waving his hands between the two. “Just baths,” he added quickly, still not satisfying a full answer. Isaak chuckled, his hand returning beneath, palming firmly. 

“Indeed,” he glanced to Sforza. “It’s a simple task, for we are aware that you require accommodation and are limited on what you can perform. Thusly, you will be assisting Mein Herr,” he added formally, “since I will be very busy with our up coming project.” Cain nodded, relaxing back into his chair, yet he seemed disinterested. “In fact, after dinner, why not start tonight?” the shade inquired of his master, having removed his hand and now provided a cigarette to him. Another peculiar surprise. Cain smiled warmly, nibbling on the end and allowing it to be lit before adding on.

“Most definitely,” he yawned, letting out smoke before returning it to his lips. But his interest was quickly lost when the large platters of food arrived, the shade setting the smoke aside before returning to his seat. Grateful for the distraction, and to satisfy the ache within her own gut.


End file.
